Fog Rising

Another round of Friday Fic… late.  Hosted by Rochelle of Addicted to Purple, who is recuperating (get well, Rochelle!), the goal is to write a three-part short story — no more than a hundred words — for a picture prompt by week’s end.

…And, as typical, I wasn’t satisfied with my work.  Putting this up Sunday…fewer eyes on it.  Enjoy.

100 words

Photo Copyright © Madison Woods

I dreamt of fog… a full moon lighting the darkness… an impossible darkness… I felt vindictive… I felt guilty.

The next thing I know, my brother was on the floor.  I must have blacked out.

“Sam?” I said.  “Sam.”  He just looked at me.

No one could figure it out.  Sam hadn’t a scratch on him, but he’d gone mute.  He shrugged when I asked why he was on the floor.

What happened next, Mom and Dad couldn’t possibly shield us.  Allison Parson— “mean-girl Allison”— had died in a fire.

Fire?  Then it hit me.  A chill spread throughout my body…

This is a continuation from last week’s story.

Click here to see what others have written, or add your own… before Tuesday.

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